Page 25 of Holding Grace

“Some things, yeah.” I acknowledged the server who signaled she’d be right with us. “But a lot is the same. It won’t take long for you to get your balance.”

“Thanks for saying that.” Grace drew in a breath. “Some days it feels like it will never happen. I’m not even sure I remember what having my balance feels like.”

“You’ll get there,” I reassured her as the server arrived at our table. “Hey, Tish, how’s it going? You remember Grace?”

Tish was one of our long-time servers and had an uncanny memory for names and faces.

“Of course, I do. Good to see you, Grace. You coming back?”

“Hi, Tish. Good to see you, too. I moved back to the area, but I’m not coming back to the pub, at least right now.”

Grace glanced at me, and I elaborated for Tish. “She’s doing me and my cousins a huge favor and helping them out with their business for a while.”

“Got it. Well, it’s nice you’re back in Lark, anyway. Do you two need menus? If you do, no problem, but I figure you know what we serve better than anyone.”

Grace and I declined the offer of menus and gave our orders, then silence fell as Tish stepped away.

I watched as Grace traced her finger across the tabletop. She seemed nervous again. Was it me making her feel that way or was it being at the pub?

“Is this weird for you? Being here?” Being here with me?

“No.” She shook her head, then tilted it, considering. “Well...yes. Not anything bad, just kind of surreal. I’m glad we came, though. I’ve never eaten in the front of the house here before. It’s nice to see how it all comes together.”

“I’ve been here a few times to meet people for dinner or drinks and been to a couple of events in the new venue. I agree that it’s a totally different perspective. It actually makes me appreciate this place even more.”

“It’s special,” Grace agreed.

We paused, thanking Tish as she set our drinks on the table, then Grace turned the conversation back to me.

“How long have you worked here? It feels a little strange that I don’t know, but it’s not like we chatted a lot when I was here before.”

We hadn’t. Grace had kept to herself for the most part. We hadn’t been friends, just co-workers with potential for something more. At least in my mind, and hopefully Grace’s, too.

I skimmed over that, answered Grace’s question - a little more than five years - and talked about some of the changes to the pub that Kendrick and Cal, along with Jamey as head chef, had made over the years. Grace shared a couple stories from places she’d worked, both of us laughing over the drama that went hand-in-hand with working in the restaurant business, typically due to the customers, but almost as often due to the staff.

Jamey joined us for a little bit, then left when he needed to pick up Meg somewhere, and before I knew it a couple of hours had gone by. When we asked for the check, Tish shared that Jamey had comped our meals as a ‘welcome home’ to Grace. Jamey also texted me to say there was a box waiting in the kitchen for us to pick up on our way out.

A box full of large to-go containers of soup, pasta, roasted chicken, and rolls for Grace, much to her surprise.

“Who’s supposed to eat all this?”

“You.” My hands were full with the box, so I nodded for her to go ahead of me out the door. “He says it’s in case you haven’t had a chance to stock up on ‘good food’ yet.”

“I do need to hit a grocery store, or maybe not. This would feed me for a week.”

“You know Jamey. He loves to feed people.” I did, too. Especially people I cared about, so I understood the instinct.

On the way home, I swung into a grocery store lot without asking and pulled into a spot. I was being presumptuous, but Grace had said she needed groceries, and she didn’t have a car.

“Ready?”

Grace looked like she wanted to refuse, but we were already here, and she was a practical woman.

She picked up some essentials, said she’d come back for everything else later, and headed for the checkout. I didn’t press her on it, just glad she’d gone along with the stop at all.

When we got to her apartment, I parked, and grabbed the box and one of the grocery bags while she got the others.

Once inside her apartment, we set the box and groceries on the island, and I looked around, knowing it was time to get out of Grace’s way and let her have some space to decompress. She looked tired – still beautiful, as always, just like she needed a chance to rest and relax.